


Crisis of Faith

by aikisenshi



Series: Itanno Clan [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crisis of Faith, Diary/Journal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikisenshi/pseuds/aikisenshi
Summary: What do you do when you start to feel as if the organization you have spent your life trusting, believing, and obeying, is beginning to lose its way?(Transcription of OC audio journal with Canon events and characters mentioned)





	1. Chapter 1

<Access Granted>

<Load Files: Personal Audiorecordings of Jedi Knight Sennah>

<Reason: Submission for investigation into Jedi Knight Sennah's disappearance>

 

<Entry 1:><begin playback>

Master Jeris, she's a “recovery counselor” of sorts, has suggested I start a journal, she says that many beings find it helpful to write or speak about their experiences as they work through and move beyond their emotions after a traumatic event, she assumes it will help me, too, though (like everyone else has said my whole life) "we don't have much data on Ryn".

She said to just speak as if I’m speaking to a new friend, and endeavor to speak the truth.

It has been three standard weeks... three weeks since a battalion of Separatist droids marched through our medical bunker... and killed my Master, Ets’son Attana.

Physically, I’m on the mend: the fur is starting to grow back where I was burned and lacerated and abraded when the bunker collapsed on top of me and the wounded clones. I’m barely limping any more on the leg that was broken.

Mentally… emotionally…? That's a different story.

Hence my visits to Master Jeris.

I know I should let go, “a Jedi should have no attachments”, “should not mourn for those who have become one with the Force”, and other such advice and training I have been given. I don't think it's losing my Master that’s the problem, I’ve lost dear friends before.

It’s the nightmares that still come almost every night.

Any small thing can trigger them, a sound, a smell, and I’m back there, using every ounce of my Jedi training to remain calm as I run a dermal regenerator across a Clone trooper's abdomen, trying to keep his insides in, while hundreds more behind me are being triaged and prepped for surgery or declared hopeless by a mixture of Clone medics, medical droids, and locals who volunteered to help.

You know, there are those, usually non-Jedi, who don't think of Clone troopers as “real people”. But let me assure you, they are just as unique and living entities as any other sentient being. It feels just as horrible to feel their agony and song's ending ripple through the Living Force as anyone else... and they were dying by the hundreds all around us.

I couldn't just shut it out, close myself off from feeling them dying all around me. I needed my connection to the Force to assess my patients, had to call upon it deeply to feel out and treat some of the injuries I knew I wouldn't easily reach surgically.

I wasn't prepared for it, how could anyone be? Especially a Jedi? We are not soldiers, or battle-hardened mercenaries. We're trained to fight only if necessary, to defend or protect ourselves or others.

We should not be the ones leading these Troops into battle, despite how good some Jedi are at it. For every Master Windu, Master Obi-Wan, or Knight Skywalker, there are a dozen like me, who leave the battlefield scarred in more ways than one.

Or who do not leave the battlefield at all, like my Master.

Maybe if I had paid better attention, worked harder in Master Drallig’s classes, I would have reacted sooner, been able to stop the droids before they shot Master Attana. Been able to deflect their blaster bolts back at them like almost any other Jedi can do. But I was too slow, my lightsaber was too far out of reach. I had set it aside while changing into my sterisuit for surgery.

I have never been good with mechanical things, non-living materials might as well not exist as far as I can tell through the Force, they don't sing like living things do. I was barely able to build my own lightsaber. I was never able to assemble my lightsaber like Jedi are supposed to, Force-lifting the pieces into their perfect places. Telekinesis is one of the most basic skills for the average Jedi, I can barely make something wobble, even now, after 20 years of Jedi training.

Hmh. Now I'm remembering Master Qui-Gon, reassuring me when I felt like a complete failure for not being able to do some things the other younglings could: “Your talents lie elsewhere, Little One, no Jedi is good at everything.”

I wish he was here. He was the one who discovered me, and my very first mentor. Tomorrow the Council will make me a Knight, and I don't have him or my Master here to see it.

It was determined that surviving the battle three weeks ago was my Trial, and I have proved my worth as a Jedi (despite my failure to keep my Master alive). Several Clone medics reported my lifesaving actions throughout the day as “heroic” and me a “valued asset to the Republic forces”.

I don't know if I deserve it. Part of me is convinced the Council just doesn't want to have to find a master willing to take on a nearly 25 year old Padawan, especially with the War going on. The other part of me speaks in Master Yoda's voice and says “If deserve something you think you do; deserve it you do not”.

Time to start getting ready, I guess.

<end of entry>

 

<Entry 2:><Begin Playback>

Growing up, you look forward to the day you will be a Jedi Knight, it's when you can sort of relax, not have to be so worried about what your Master is trying to teach you, what your great Trial is going to be. You imagine you will have more freedom to decide for yourself what you want to do each day.

I find that I’m following the same schedule Master Attana set up. It is comfortable, familiar. It means I don't have to think, to worry about what I need to do next.

My Knighting ceremony was... bittersweet. I had wondered the past few days who would be taking the place of my Master in the ceremony. The Council said they would choose someone.

Master Obi-Wan was the one who appeared outside my door. It was definitely a surprise to see him, I had heard he was still on Mandalore, trying to stop a civil war.

I started to ask him how it had gone, but he stopped me with a small smile and a raised hand and said: “Another time, Padawan, you are supposed to be in quiet contemplation.”

It was a good excuse, but I could tell it was because he didn't want to talk about his mission.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Padawan himself when we first met, he and Master Qui-Gon were the ones who found me and brought me to the temple when I was a toddler. I haven't been as close to him as I was to Qui-Gon when he was alive, but he has been a friend and mentor too over the years, when he wasn't too busy worrying about his Padawan, Anakin. The fact that Anakin passed his Trial two years ago and is no longer technically his responsibility hasn't lessened Obi-Wan's worry about him, though.

As we walked down the hall, I began listening to the Force. I tried stay focused on my own melody, its place in the Living Force's great symphony. The harmony of my lightsaber’s kyber crystal. The song of the future I was heading towards…

But there was something wrong with Master Obi-Wan, he was trying to focus on the task at hand, too, but his thoughts started to wash over me. It happens sometimes when people around me are feeling strong emotions and having trouble controlling them. Obi-Wan’s were starting to be too powerful to ignore.

I put my hand on his arm and stopped walking, he stopped too. I asked if he was ok. He tried to make some excuse, but I felt the dissonant song of a lie in his voice. Suddenly I saw a vision of a woman, she was dying in Master Obi-Wan's arms, he was fighting hard to contain his emotion.

Before I could stop myself, I asked who the woman was. Then I realized that I’d intruded on his thoughts, and apologized.

He takes this deep breath and puts his hand over mine, says it was alright, and muttered something about how he'd forgotten how very perceptive I was.

He explained that the woman was the Dutchess of Mandalore, and a longtime friend. Two days ago she had been assassinated in front of him, by the same Sith who killed Master Qui-Gon.

“But killing that Sith was your Trial, wasn't it?” I asked. It reminds me now that failing to protect your Master does not mean your Trial was a failure, Obi-Wan lost his master during his Trial too. I remember blaming him for not defending Master Qui-Gon, but I was 12 years old, angry, and afraid I’d never find another Jedi willing to take me as a Padawan.

He said it was, indeed, the same Sith. Somehow he survived. “He has resurfaced and has been causing chaos and repeatedly slipping out of my grasp.” Obi-Wan's hand clenched into a fist, I felt his anger and frustration flare for a moment, before he clamped down on them, forcing himself back to appropriate Jedi Master calm. _There is no emotion, there is peace._

He gestured down the hall, and we continued walking again, but I couldn't stop thinking about the feelings I had caught, how the brief bit of the woman’s song in the Force fit so well with Obi-Wan's. She was more than just a friend to him. I think he would have abandoned the Jedi Order for her if she had asked him to.

Instead of spending the day in the meditation room contemplating my future as a Jedi Knight as I was supposed to, I spent most of the day thinking about how much turmoil and pain is caused by losing someone you care about. I understand why the Jedi are forbidden from having those sort of relationships.

But even a Jedi cannot stop themselves from feeling, the Force can't speak to an emotionless rock. Doesn't it cause just as much emotional turmoil to love someone but not be able to be with them?

I wondered what the Jedi would be like if we were allowed to love romantically. Certainly a bit more difficult for the Council to control, and less of a guarantee of neutrality in diplomacy… but wouldn't there be more happiness too? And what about children? There are theories about Force sensitivity being hereditary. Wouldn't that be a good thing? Making more Jedi ourselves instead of having to search the Galaxy to find them? (Not that I'D be able to contribute to an effort like that, I don't know if the nearest male of my species is even in the Core Territories).

Not that we have time to do much youngling searching right now, we're in the middle of a war. We're neglecting that sacred responsibility to the Force in order to lead troops into battle. If anything in the Galaxy is in need of restoring to a balance, it's us, the Jedi.

Anyway… My ceremony was brief, simple, like most Jedi ceremonies. Master Yoda said the ancient introduction, cut off my Padawan braid, “By the right of the Council, by the Will of the Force, rise, Jedi Knight”.

I still don't think I’m worthy, but I will do my best to be what the Force needs me to be, I’m just not sure what that is, any more.

<end of entry>

 

<Entry 3:><begin playback>  
There was an explosion in one of the Temple hangars today. I was on duty, I helped treat the wounded as they were dragged out of the rubble and brought to the medical wing. Treated about twenty civilian maintenance workers with second and third degree burns and shrapnel wounds. There were a couple beings that we just didn't get to in time, and a lot that were caught in the explosion and died instantly.  
  
The loss of life within the Temple walls hurts bad enough, but there are rumors that it was a deliberate attack... and a Jedi was responsible.  
  
What could lead a Jedi to do such a thing? I know there are Jedi like me who don't agree with our part in this war, but to do something so violent, to inflict such an injury on our home, on our Order, and those who work here with us?  
  
I don't know, maybe not every Jedi has forged the same relationship with the Temple as I have, doesn't feel an attack like this as keenly. Nearly every Jedi in the Galaxy has been living here for some part of their lives, most since being brought to the Temple as a baby or toddler.  
  
Besides Skywalker, that is, he was much older. I remember when Master Qui-Gon brought him to the temple. It is difficult to forget, it was the last time I saw Master Qui-Gon alive. I was twelve years old, still struggling to complete my lightsaber, still holding out hope that Padawan Obi-Wan would become a Knight soon and Master Qui-Gon would take me as his next Padawan. I didn't think anyone besides him would take a Padawan who was struggling like I was.  
  
Anakin has always been the special exception, to almost everything. He remembers his birth family. He even went to visit them once. I'm not supposed to know about that, but I saw it in his mind once on accident (It just kind of happens, like the other day with Master Obi-Wan). I saw an old man, a young man and woman, and another young woman, she felt familiar, someone I've seen here on Coruscant, Senator Amidala, I think? Master Obi-Wan and Knight Skywalker are friends of hers, she's a good friend of the Jedi in the Senate. There was also another woman in the memory, I think she is Anakin's mother. She was badly hurt. It got really… dark after that, but he shut down on that memory really quick.  
  
I don't remember much about my birth family beyond snippets of their Force melody, their “presence” most other Jedi call it.  
  
Most of my fellow Jedi get confused when I use music terminology to refer to the Force, but that's how I perceive it, a vast symphony with every living thing playing a part, each with its own little song. It's part of my problem with manipulating non-living things, I think, they don't sing like living things do, it's really hard for me to hear them in the Force.  
  
I was told bits about my birth family by Master Qui-Gon. I was rescued from a slave raid by Master Qui-Gon and then-Padawan Obi-Wan. The rest of my clan was not so lucky as I was. Master Qui-Gon said they gave their lives and freedom so that I could escape and be trained as a Jedi.  
  
I strive to be worthy of my clan’s sacrifice, to live up to their belief that I had a greater purpose to serve in the Galaxy. But I wonder sometimes what their lives have been like. How many died that day? How many have died since? How many are still slaves?  
  
When I was nine or ten years old, I was obsessed for a while with trying to find my people. I scoured the holonet, and was shocked at what I found. My species are spoken of mostly in myth or fairy tales, and are usually “bad guys”: stealing away children in the night, robbing people of their treasures, being itinerant thieves and rogues. It saddened me.  
  
Master Qui-Gon found me that afternoon, like he usually somehow would when I was upset, and took me for a walk in the Temple gardens. He re-explained why the Jedi try to find Force-sensitive children before they're too old, and why we're discouraged from knowing too much about our birth families. Things like prejudices, and attachments to our former lives, can distract us from our training. It can affect our ability to care for and serve all beings without reservation.  
  
There is no prejudice towards species in the Temple. I grew up knowing I was unique, there aren't any other Ryn here, and no Ryn Jedi appear in the archives. Many of my fellow Jedi over the years didn't even recognize my species, and most didn't care beyond a curiosity, or a desire to expand some entry in the archives (I’ve had my body thoroughly scanned about once a year by the archivists for the Temple medical and biological archives).  
  
I still sometimes have dreams of that night I was rescued. It is hazy, but there is darkness, noise, and fear. It is a song of sadness from my Ryn family, but with notes of hope for my future. It begins in chaos and ends with gentle words of comfort in that deep melodic voice I still miss hearing, even though it has been over ten years now since Master Qui-Gon was killed.  
  
I think I need to get out of the Temple for a little while, there is too much suspicion and fear in the air right now. The dischord is almost overwhelming, I am having trouble blocking out the dissonance.

<end of entry>

 

<Entry 4><begin playback>

I don't know where to begin, but I will try to follow Master Attana’s advice and start from the beginning and be methodical and honest.

When I was a youngling, researching my species, there were some days I felt so alone, being the only Ryn in the temple, possibly the only Ryn in all the Core Worlds, and not finding very much in the archives to learn besides the folklore that placed my people in the Outer Rim. On the worst of those lonely days, Master Qui-Gon would randomly appear and give me a word of encouragement, or sometimes, after checking with my caretakers, even take me out of the Temple to some place to learn something new.

One of those places was Dex's Diner, an eatery in the CoCo District. I went there a few times with Master Qui-Gon, sometimes Obi-Wan came too. Dex, the Besalisk cook and proprietor, would tell stories about things he'd seen and beings he'd met over his years out in the Galaxy. He has one of the most oddly complex melodies I’ve ever felt, even to this day. So many diverse things have influenced him through his life. I learned a lot about the beings of the Galaxy really lived, and how many of them were far from their original homes too, but had found new homes and new families to be part of.

Nostalgia is not encouraged among the Jedi, but today, I didn't care. I wanted to go somewhere from a happy memory. So when my shift at the temple’s medical wing was over (and my head and heart were ringing from the emotional turmoil, the patients were being interviewed about the hangar explosion), I took advantage of my new freedom as a full Jedi Knight and left the Temple.

I ended up at Dex’s.

Dex remembered me.

He called out to me from the kitchen as I climbed up onto a stool at the bar: “Well, ain't that something outta ancient history.” he says, “How are ya, Little One? That's what Master Qui-Gon used ta call ya, didn't he?”

I gave his droid waitress my order, and when the dinner rush slowed down a bit, Dex came out to see me. I expressed my wonder that he remembered me. He laughed and told me he remembers everything he's ever seen and heard, “and a Ryn Jedi, that's something extra memorable, rarer than rare.” Then he says he even thought about me a few weeks ago, after seeing some Ryn there in his diner.

I almost choked on my Jawa Juice. When I could talk again, I asked him for details, he said he didn't have much beyond a brief description of their coloration and clothing.

I begged him to help me find those Ryn. He “hmm'ed” and replied that information and the time tracking it down is a valuable commodity, and asked what I had in exchange.

I offered information about the bombing, it was all I’d been hearing his other customers talk about. He grinned, I could tell it was what he was hoping I’d offer.

I told him what I knew about the investigation, that Knight Skywalker and his Padawan Ahsoka Tano had been assigned to lead it. They'd come in to talk to the injured in the medical wing that afternoon while I was on duty. They had some sort of lead, and as I was leaving the Temple I heard someone saying an arrest had been made. That was all I knew.

Dex said he would see what he could find out for me about the Ryn. I gave him my secure comlink frequency, he gave me a wink and a take-out box with the dessert I had often ordered so long ago.

I… don't know what I’m going to do if he can find them. I’ve spent so many years resigned to being the oddity, have even found some measure of peace about it. Have I done the right thing seeking them out?

<end of entry>

 

<Entry 5:><begin playback>  
Something has happened, the rumors are all over, all I know for sure is that the major suspect in the bombing is dead, and Padawan Tano was blamed. She ran, I don't know what that says about her guilt or innocence, but there are Jedi and Clone Troops scouring the city for her.  
  
I don't know Padawan Tano personally, she's almost 10 years younger than me. I just know of her from holonews about the battles she and Anakin have been in. It doesn't seem like her, to be the one responsible for the bombing, she seems so dedicated to the Order, and doing her part leading Clone Troops. I don't know what to think...  
  
It's been a harrowing couple of days. The investigation into the bombing has had protesters at the front gates of the Temple, calling for the Jedi to get out of the war. Saying that the bombing will be just the beginning, if we don't step out.  
  
I sometimes find myself agreeing with them. Keeping the peace is different from fighting a war, isn't it? Maybe I just don't like it because I’m a healer, not a fighter.  
  
*sigh*  
  
I haven't heard from Dex, I’m still not sure what I will do if he does find something for me.  
  
There are good reasons why we are strongly discouraged from investigating our lives before the Temple. Many point to former Jedi Master Dooku as a perfect example, he was too connected to his birth family, when he left the Order he took up his hereditary title of Count, and now he's thrown the galaxy into chaos with the Separatists. He's part of the reason Jedi like my master are getting killed, not to mention all the civilians and random innocents on hundreds of worlds.  
  
It's hard to believe he was Master Qui-Gon's master.  
  
I sometimes wonder what Master Qui-Gon would have thought about this war. Would he have joined the conscientious objectors who surrendered their lightsabers in order to remain out of the war? He was not against fighting if he needed to, but would he have considered this a worthwhile cause?  
  
I sometimes think I hear him, you know, in the Force, when I’m meditating. I hear echoes of his song: bold, defiant, unorthodox, but yet still harmonious.  
  
I asked Master Attana about it once. She explained that a person's presence in the Force, if strong enough, can leave behind an impression that those who are sensitive enough can perceive.  
  
I’ve felt those echoed songs before, when handling an artifact from the archives, or accessing a particularly strong holocron.  
  
Master Qui-Gon’s echo is different, no less faint, but deeper somehow. Maybe it's because I knew him, I felt his presence myself while he was alive. I don't know. I certainly haven't felt Master Attana’s presence since she died, other than those same faint echoes on items I have that belonged to her, and even those are starting to fade.  
  
I should probably get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.  
<End of Entry>

 


	2. Chapter 2

<Entry 6><begin playback>   
It's the small things, you know? The things you get used to doing with someone, the things you are used to hearing them say.   
  
“Listen, observe, plan, act.” Was one of Master Attana’s favorite sayings. First, listen and observe your situation, whether you are treating a patient or facing an enemy. Find all the details you can, visually, auditorily, through the Force. Stop, think about what the facts and the urgings of the Force tell you that you need to do, and make a plan for how to do it. Then act, cleanly, decisively, thoroughly.   
  
I… still have a problem following that advice, I jump too quickly from observe to act. Master Attana used to somewhat jokingly blame it on “too much exposure to Master Qui-Gon in my formative years”. He too would focus on the immediate, trusting that he was following the will of the Force, and his actions would work out for the best in the end.   
  
I miss her lectures, they were stern, but logical and precise. I wonder what she would have to say about the hangar bombing. Padawan Tano is still out there in the city somewhere, the Republic police are getting involved now, they have apparently lost their faith in Jedi neutrality in this investigation.   
  
I’m not sure I blame them. I… oh, someone's comming me.   
  
<recording paused, resumed 5 minutes 32 seconds later>   
  
It was Dex. He has a lead for me. Someone saw a Ryn performing in a club in the Uscru Entertainment District. They're so close, I wonder how long they've been here on Coruscant?   
  
My next shift at the medical wing isn't until tomorrow afternoon. I think I will try to follow this lead tonight.   
  
I hope I’m doing the right thing.   
<End of Entry>  
  


<Entry 7:><begin playback>

::voice volume fades in and out and sound of pacing feet continues throughout entry::

It's dawn. I haven’t been awake this long since the battle that ended with a bunker collapsed on top of me. That day was almost better, certainly less... conflicting... than the past night has been.

So I followed Dex’s lead, down into the lower levels of the Uscru Entertainment District. I’ve been a few places around the city before, but in my years as Master Attana’s Padawan it's mostly been direct shuttles to some of the Jedi-sponsored med-clinics in the lower levels of the districts, or out to a transport ship to be taken on a mission to a planet in need of medical supplies or medical expertise.

I’ve never really wandered the streets of Coruscant before. Certainly not after dark. I was glad for the long sleeves of my robe, I had my lightsaber hilt in my hand nearly the whole time. The lines of its wooden casing  were pressed into my palm so tightly I had to ease up after a bit, it started to hurt. If I ran into trouble I at least hoped that igniting the saber would scare it away. If I got into an actual fight I was bantha poodoo. As Master Drallig will readily attest, I’m no swordsman.

Dex’s info said a Ryn had been seen entertaining at the _Ace of Flasks_. I looked it up on a public map terminal once I got outside the Temple. It isn't an establishment as big as say, _The_ _Outlander Club_ , but it’s more geared towards performance entertainment: dancers, musicians, that sort of thing, rather than gambling. It does have some Sabacc tables, though, hence the Sabacc name.

I found my way to the club, and went inside. I tried to be unobtrusive, but a cloaked and hooded Jedi is hard to miss. I heard half-serious mumblings of “if this place turns into a Jedi club, I’m out of here.” I began using a mind clouding technique on the beings around me, making most of them simply fail to notice me as I passed. It didn't work on everyone, a female Toydarian at a Sabacc table watched me suspiciously as I passed, ignored completely by everyone else at her table until she pointed me out to them, but by that time I was lost in the crowd again. Being small has advantages.

I made my way to the stage in the back, it’s as far from the gambling tables as possible, I guess so the stage performances won't distract the games. A pair of Theelin dancers were onstage performing to a song with a complex beat. Oh that rhythm, it was... infectious, I couldn't stop the end of my tail twitching in time. Jedi don't dance, not that kind of dancing at least, but rhythms like that have always called to me.

This tall, burly Devaronian stood at the edge of the stage, in front of a door that I presumed led backstage. I surprised him when I dropped the mind cloud and tapped on his arm. I pushed back my hood enough that he could get a good look at my face and asked him if he had seen anyone of my species recently.

He gave me this disgusted look and grumbled something about someone letting vermin be Jedi. He said yes, there was one of my kind in back, getting ready to perform when the dancers were done, what the boss saw in him, he didn't know, but at least his music was halfway decent, and unique.

I asked, nearly begged, to be allowed to go backstage. The Devaronian crossed his arms, told me he wasn't supposed to, boss’ orders. I asked again, adding “It will be ok, I won't disrupt anything” and giving him a little nudge with the Force.

He relented and opened the door a crack, letting me slip inside. It was dim in there, the sound of the music and the club faded a bit as the door slid closed behind me.

I made my way down a short hall, past sound equipment and doors leading to two warm-up and practice rooms. I heard a whistling note, and then the string of an instrument being plucked.

I walked around a pile of boxes and there he was, the Ryn. He was sitting on a crate, not a meter away from me, facing away. His prehensile tail was hanging down the back of his seat, swishing and tapping in rhythm to the music on the stage. He wore a loose long-sleeved white shirt and a dark leather vest. He had a mane of tan colored hair that reached well past his shoulders. His skin was a deep, deep brown, almost black, and the short velvety fur that covered it was the same color. I could see a gold loop at the top of one pointed, upswept ear.

He sounded another note, I heard it whistling from his hollow fluted nose, just like mine, though a bit lower pitched. Then he plucked a string on the instrument sitting cross-ways in his lap. He adjusted a tuning peg with a slender, long-fingered hand. He plucked the string again, and adjusted the pitch again, until it was perfectly in tune with his whistle. He strummed a chord, turned the third peg, this time, not whistling to find the correct note for some reason. He strummed again, adjusted the peg, strummed, then sighed. I felt frustration from him, and... loss.

“It's still a touch flat.” I found myself saying. The Ryn jumped slightly, startled at my sudden words, he apparently hadn't known I was standing there. “Yeah, I keep having problems with that one--” he started to say as he turned around, but froze when he saw me, in shocked surprise.

He stood up so quickly he stumbled and nearly dropped his instrument, but recovered and placed the quetarra carefully on the crate.

As he faced me fully, I could see why he had trouble tuning that string, there was a scar and a crack from an old injury that crossed from his cheek up onto his beaklike nose right where the hole that would play that note would be. The other end of the scar disappeared down into a short-trimmed mustache and continued past it down his cheek into a goatee the same color as his hair.

He reached out towards me, I saw his hand was trembling slightly, which struck me as odd, he didn't look sick, or old, in fact, he didn't look much older than I was. He said something in Ryn, something about... waiting… or hoping? (Stars, I’ve forgotten so much of the Ryn language), and then did something, so suddenly, I was really not expecting...

He hugged me, and whispered my name.

  
  
It was so weird, this stranger, hugging me, saying my name. I started to pull away, but I sensed something: his song - his presence - in the Force. It was... familiar. I stopped and closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the Living Force, trying to hear him better, trying to remember.   
  
I had a flash of a dim memory. A Ryn child, crying. His elbow was scraped from falling off of a rock. Hands -- my hands, tiny and striped, like they used to be when I was a youngling, touched his elbow as I concentrated, so hard, and felt the Force flow into him, speeding the wound’s healing until it closed and was gone.   
  
Suddenly I knew his name, I don't know where it came from. I must have said it out loud, because he released me from that awkward embrace and leaned back, laughing.   
  
“Dan-Dan?” he asked. He grinned and said something about being… striped? A youngling, I guess. He asked me something, something about… remembering, then gestured to himself and said “Danyal.”   
  
I wasn't sure, I’m still not sure. I just sort of stood there staring up into those amber colored eyes, I saw myself reflected there, almost… trapped in his gaze. He looked concerned and asked something about sitting down. I nodded, I think, and he gestured to the crate he'd been sitting on, I sat down next to his guitar.   
  
He started to say something, but the music on stage ended, he looked up as the dancers came off the stage and waved to him. He swore and picked up his instrument, quickly strumming it again.   
  
I was coming out of my shock a bit by that point. I put my fingers against my nose and blew the note for him. He grinned and adjusted the tuning peg. He strummed it again and I nodded, it was in tune, not perfectly, but somehow still… right.   
  
He put a hand on my shoulder, said something about, money, I think. He asked me to wait. He stepped up to the curtain, glanced back at me, winked, and slipped out onto the stage. I got up and followed, but stopped in the wings, where I could see him up on the stage, but the audience wouldn’t see me.   
  
He started playing, slow at first, then faster. As he sped up, he started singing: strong, passionate, almost wailing notes, echoing across the stage.   
  
I heard the noise in the club even die down a little as people stopped to listen.   
  
The song was familiar, I must have heard it sometime when I was little. I found myself humming along, thought I don't remember exactly what the words meant.    
  
I watched his dexterous hands play over the strings and neck of the quetarra, and suddenly had this image, and a… sensation, pop into my mind. A feeling of those hands, touching  _ me _ .   
  
It made my fur stand on end under my Jedi robes and I shivered in… I don’t know, anticipation? Maybe? It’s making me shiver again just thinking about it. I don’t know where the image came from. I could feel his hands running along the fur on my arms, holding my hands, stroking my face and hair.   
  
It scared me. It’s scaring me now just talking about it hours later.   
  
Was it my imagination? Was I just picking up on his thoughts? It certainly wasn't a memory, was it a vision of the future? I’ve had glimpses of the future before, though usually in deep meditation. Was it really a vision? A future where he and I...   
  
I, I don't know...   
  
I backed away from the stage, I had to get out of there, I almost ran over the dancers. They had changed costumes, they now wore clothing that somewhat matched the Ryn on stage, I guess they were going to dance to some of his music next.   
  
One of the dancers, the female, asked if I was a Jedi; the other, the male, said of course I was, who else wore robes like that. The female asked if I was ‘her’... the one Danyal’s songs were about.   
  
I didn't know what to say, I mumbled something about needing to leave. They begged me to stay, to give Danyal the chance to finally talk to me. I told them to tell him I would be back in two days, I think that's what I said, that's my next evening I’m not expected at the medical wing. I escaped through a door into a back alley and ran.   
  
I didn't stop running until I got safely back to my room at the Temple. I’ve spent the hours since just pacing my room, trying to sort things out. I’m too conflicted to even calm down enough to meditate.   
  
I don't know what that image was, was it just… physical attraction? I’ve never really felt that before. Is this what human, or Twi’lek, or other Jedi from common species have to deal with at some point? Getting over that biological urge that can lead to attachment, loss, jealousy, and pain.   
  
Was it his thoughts? No, these images are from MY point of view, if they were his thoughts, I'd see myself in them. I've seen that many times before.   
  
I don't know if I can go back and face him, that, that... sensation, it's, it's…   
  
Dammit, I want to feel it again.   
  
To feel it for real...   
  
What's wrong with me?   
  
<end playback>   
  
(Song Danyal is playing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVUnYCX0kJI)

 

<Entry 8:><begin playback>

Padawan Ahsoka was found and captured last night, sometime while I was recording my last entry.

I was so stupid. I don't know why I didn't think about it. I went running off into the streets of Coruscant without even thinking about the fact that there was a manhunt going on for a missing Jedi suspected of terrorism. What sort of excuse would I have had to give the Coruscant Police, or Clone Troopers if they'd come across me in that alley behind the club? Or running to the Temple in such a panic? Would they have believed whatever story I would have come up with to tell them? Like they've believed Padawan Ahsoka?

They expelled her from the Order this morning. I don't understand it, can't they feel her confusion, her feelings of being betrayed, the truth in her song? I felt it as I watched her and her escort pass by on their way out of the Council chamber. Perhaps she is just too good at concealing her true feelings, and the Council senses something I cannot? Could someone skilled enough be able to fake the tone of their feelings in the Force?

Yes, the evidence they have against her is strong, running away like she did just added to it. There are also rumors she was seen with a known Sith apprentice. But there's got to be more to the story. I can tell Anakin isn't convinced, no matter what the Council decided, I could feel his simmering anger across the room.

What must the Council be sensing from me? I’ve been trying to keep myself calm, my feelings stable. If the Masters of the Council can feel something deeper within Ahsoka that I could not; how easily will they see through me, and see my turmoil?

Or is it that they  _ cannot _ see her clearly? Is their vision clouded somehow? Is something keeping them from hearing the truth in her song? Or is it that the Generals in this War are becoming more loyal to the Republic military than the ideals of the Order they lead?

No, this is not good, I should not be doubting them. They are the Masters because they are much wiser and more experienced than I am. I just have to have faith that they are correctly interpreting the will of the Force.

Which they are, aren't they?

...

I need to figure out what I will be doing tomorrow night. I told the dancers to tell the Ryn that I would come back, but what am I going to tell him? What if he brings others with him? Dex said he'd seen two Ryn in his diner, so there's at least one other Ryn on Coruscant.

What do you say to someone who's obsessed with you, with the  _ idea _ of you, at least? The dancer said he had written songs about me. I sort of want to know what they say… but no, it would just make possible attachments worse.

I’m going to meditate deeply before going to sleep tonight. Maybe things will be clearer in the morning.

<End of Entry>

 

<Entry 9:><begin playback>

I felt him, I know I did. It was more than just an echo in the Force.

Sure, I was sitting in one of his favorite meditation circles in the Temple gardens, and the circle contains the echoes of thousands of Jedi meditating there over countless years.

But this was different from those echoes. Those sort of echoes are just part of the background. Like a footprint in damp soil: you can see the evidence of the being’s passing, but the being itself has continued on to somewhere else.

I sat with my lightsaber between my folded hands, where I could better feel my crystal's harmonics. It's really the only thing I can do well with my saber: use it as a meditation aid. They're odd things, Kyber crystals, one of the few non-living things I can easily sense in the Force. They don't have a melody of their own, they harmonize with the melody of their intended wielder. Mine has sung to me clearly since I found it.

When my clan was taken to Ilum, I found my crystal so quickly that I tried to convince Master Yoda to let me help the other younglings find theirs. I could hear their crystals’ harmonies calling out to them. He explained: not rushing to others’ aid too quickly, my trial was. Learn patience, I must.

I sat in the center of a mosaic of the symbol of the Jedi Order, polished smooth by ages of Jedi past. I began my meditation by focusing on the symbol beneath me. The bright spark at the center, the Force within all living things. The beam of light that reaches up from it into the beyond. The wings that surround and protect that light, like an avian protecting its young, yet not enclosing it completely, so that it may grow and progress.

I reached out into the Living Force around me, feeling the grass around the mosaic, the tiny spark in each one. Past the grass to the trees with their ancient solidness. Beyond the trees to the other Jedi and groundskeepers in the gardens, carefully filtering out their thoughts and emotions (It took me many years to be able to do that, to reach out to  _ feel _ other beings without overwhelming myself with  _ hearing _ them). I reached out beyond the Temple, feeling the bustling city-planet beyond: the ebb and flow of Life, beginning, ending, being generated, being squandered.A passing thought on what it might feel like to create a life myself, then discarding the thought as I was discarding all others, just feeling, not thinking.

As my awareness drifted beyond Coruscant, things became more… abstract. There are Jedi for whom that expanse beyond: the Cosmic Force, is navigable. Reaching out to touch the future, or the past, and interpreting its songs. I do not often seek it out, I am not comfortable there. But sometimes, it reaches out to me. Giving me confusing, difficult to understand melodies.

As I floated there, unaffixed to anything in particular, just, feeling. I started to feel something, a presence, somewhat diffused; individual notes, floating in the Force. They gathered, a few bits at a time, notes becoming chords, becoming phrases, becoming a song. A familiar melody...

Until suddenly, I heard Master Qui-Gon's song as clearly as if he had been sitting there beside me.

I felt his smile, the one I always felt when he greeted me: “Hello, Little One.”

I confess, I started wondering if I was going crazy, if maybe I was reaching  _ into the past _ somehow. I thought briefly that I should tell someone, maybe Master Yoda.

But then I heard him speak to me, I swear it on my life. Like he was sitting there with me in the garden: “Shh, not yet. Patience, Little One.”

I opened my eyes, half expecting to see Master Qui-Gon Jinn, sitting right there in front of me. Smiling at me with that twist at the corner of his mouth. The somewhat mischievous look in his eye that I would see just before he’d tell me we were going to take one of his not-quite-orthodox trips out of the Temple.

But, there was no one there. His song was gone, dissolving back into the symphony of the Living Force.

I don't know completely what it meant. But I will wait, and be patient.

<End of Entry>


	3. Chapter 3

<Entry 10:><begin playback>

The Temple is in chaos tonight. It may be outwardly calm, Jedi are good at that. But inside, they're reeling.

Padawan Ahsoka was cleared of all charges…

...because Padawan Bariss Offee confessed to the bombing.

I wish I could say ‘I can't understand why’, but I can. I don't agree with what she did, killing and injuring beings is never a good answer. But I find myself understanding the sentiment behind it. She has lost all faith in the Order…

Like I am beginning to.

The Council couldn't even tell Ahsoka was telling the truth about being innocent. Anakin Skywalker had to track down the truth himself, he and Padawan Offee had a lightsaber battle in the dormitory wing when he confronted her.

If the Council would expel Ahsoka for suspicion, what would they do to me? I’ve broken the rules, I am planning to break them further tonight by meeting with my people. It is expressly forbidden. Knowing your family can lead to attachment to them, and losing the neutral objectivity that Jedi must maintain in order to serve the citizens of the Republic fairly.

Therein lies our problem, though. The Jedi are supposed to be servants of The Force, and serve all creatures. The Jedi allied with the Republic all those years ago because we had similar goals, peace and stability. The Jedi have slowly evolved to become a subsidiary of the Republic. The Republic is starting to lose sight of its objectivity, and the Jedi are being dragged along.

I just… I have to be careful, I cannot risk being caught tonight. And I cannot continue to break the rules.

I could just leave... I could walk away like Ahsoka did today.

There have been more than a few Jedi who have left the Order over this War. Bardan Jusik, a member of my youngling clan, left over a year ago. I was away on a mission at the time, I didn't get a chance to hear his reasons personally, or to say goodbye. Olana, another of my clan mates, says that he was opposed to the Clones being used like slaves.

A few weeks ago, Olana came back from a mission, she said she ran into Bardan. He’s joined a group of his people, Mandalorian freelancers (they are staying far out of Mandalor’s recent troubles, thankfully). I hope he stays safe, that’s a dangerous life. But then, so can be the life of a Jedi, lately.

No, I can't leave. I still have a responsibility to the Jedi, they need medics and healers. Besides, I still don't know what that was, last night. A vision? Master Qui-Gon’s… apparition... said to wait, be patient. I have a feeling I will be needed here somehow.

I have to tell the Ryn goodbye tonight. I cannot risk getting in trouble with the Council. I am needed here.

<End of Entry>

  


<Entry 11:><begin playback>

*A deep sigh, somewhat shaky, perhaps tearful*

It's done. I’ve met my people, and turned them away.

It was hard.

So hard.

To see, to _know_ , that you are not alone, that other beings like you not only exist, but love you, miss you, and think about you every day.

I can still feel them, out there in the City. Meeting them forged an emotional link, like I worried it might. I don't think I’m going to be able to break it. They're relieved, thankful, hurt, but resolved. The male my age, Danyal, his song is especially hurt, and very, very sad.

I can't keep listening to that link, it hurts.

Maybe someday I could track them down again.

No, not now, maybe not ever. I have to accept it. They gave me away, and as much as they may regret it (as much as HE may hate it), I am a Jedi. I am needed here, and I cannot let them distract me.

I left the Temple just after my previous journal entry, when night had finally fallen. It was actually good to put a bit of distance between me and the emotional turmoil in the Temple. I left my Jedi accoutrements behind this time. My saber waited for me here in my quarters. I packed away my robes, outer tunic and utility belt in a knapsack soon after leaving the Temple grounds. I continued on to the meeting in just my sleeveless undertunic, pants and boots. I felt very exposed, but I looked more like an average Coruscanti. I’m glad I don't have my Padawan braid any more.

As I made my way back to the Uscru Entertainment District, I was amazed that it had only been two days since I had made that trip before. So much has happened.

I found the alley behind the Ace of Flasks, the one that I fled through two days ago. There were presences there. I stopped at the corner and peeked around.

There they were, three of them. The dark brown-furred male: Danyal, the guitar player; he sat on a crate looking sullen (seeing him made my fur stand on end, again). Standing near him was a dark grey-furred male, he had light grey hair and a long mustache with ends that extended down past his chin. He wore a patch over his left eye, the side of his face around it was scarred, it looks like he had been burned once, long ago. Leaning against the grey one, her arm around his waist, his arm around her shoulders, was a Ryn female. Her light auburn hair and slightly darker reddish fur was almost the same shade as mine. Though her fur is starting to frost grey with age here and there.

They were conversing quietly in Ryn, which ceased as I stepped around the corner and they turned to see me.

The female Ryn gasped and put a hand to her mouth. She wore many colorful rings and bracelets, they glittered in the light as her hand trembled.

The grey one grinned broadly and called out my name as I walked the meter or so into the alley towards them. The elders both reached out and pulled me into a tight embrace between them. They chatted excitedly at me, to each other, to Danyal, one over the other, too fast for me to follow. The barrage of melodic language paused, they stepped back and looked at me expectantly. I realized that they had asked me questions and were waiting for the answers.

I tried to decipher what they had said, but it had been too much, and too complex. I shook my head.

“I am sorry. I do not speak your language.” I told them in Basic. _Stars above_ , I’m so ashamed of that.

Danyal muttered something in Ryn. I did not catch his words. He felt bitter and a bit smug, it was an “I told you so” sort of feeling.

“Oh, not a problem, dear one,” the grey one  said, switching to heavily accented Basic. He smiled at me, but I could feel a deep sadness from both him and the female. I think their language is very important to them.

“We are so glad to see you again, Sennah.” He continued. “Do you remember your Uncle Gandan and Aunt Eda?”

I closed my eyes and listened, feeling their songs in the Force. I nodded, opened my eyes again, and told them I did, a bit, though I did not realise it was their presences in particular I had always remembered.

They asked how I was, if the Jedi had been kind to me. If I had learned how to use the gifts they had seen when I was a youngling. Had I been here on on Coruscant all my life? Or had I spent the time traveling the galaxy helping beings across many worlds? They said they had arrived on Coruscant five years ago, and had tried to contact me at the time, but were turned away by Temple security.

I gave simple, noncommittal answers. The realization that they had been here --on Coruscant-- for so long, that was a shock.

They asked if I would like to come with them, to meet the other dozen or so clanmates and kin here.

I had to disappoint them. The meeting had gone on too long already.

“I am sorry,” I told them, using every ounce of my Jedi training to remain calm and neutral, yet polite. “I thank you for your dedication, and your perseverance in wanting to see me again. But I cannot. I am already breaking the Order’s rules in meeting you here tonight. I came tonight because I told Danyal’s friends I would, and a Jedi keeps their word. But I should not have even sought you out in the first place. It was a moment of weakness after a time of great stress. It would not be fair, or right, for me to be able to have a relationship with my birth family when every other Jedi cannot. It is simply what you agreed to when you sent me away with Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”

The two elders felt devastated. I felt more sorry for Danyal, though. He stayed seated on the crate throughout the encounter, leaning back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. His mood felt dark, and hopeless, by the time I finished my speech.

“How is Master Qui-Gon Jinn, by the way?” Aunt Eda asked, seeming to try to change the subject, and keep me talking. “Has he taught you many things?”

“He was killed, about thirteen years ago.” I replied, trying to be matter-of-fact, but my voice wavered towards the end.

The two elder Ryn reflexively raised their eyes to the distant, barely-seen sky above and muttered something, a litany for the dead, something about dancing among the stars.

“He… He is, actually, I think.” I replied, remembering how I had felt his presence: diffused across the Force. “Out there somewhere, keeping an eye on me.”

They both beamed at me, realizing I had understood at least some of their language.

“I have to go,” I said then. “I will be missed if I stay much longer.”

“Is there anything we can do for you, dear one?” Uncle Gandan asked.

“No, there is not,” I told them. “But, there is something you can do for a friend. A young female Togruta is without a home tonight. I do not know where she may have gone after leaving the Temple this afternoon, or what friends she might have in the City. But if you can find Ahsoka Tano, please give her this datachip. Let her know it is from me. Whatever love, caring or resources you would give to me, please, give to her. She has suffered a great betrayal and needs some friends right now.”

The chip I gave them contains my personal communicator frequency and a message letting Ahsoka know that the bearers of the chip are friends she can trust. I prepared it with the hope that my instincts, and memories, of my Ryn family were correct: That they are kindly people who will help someone in need. I had been quietly feeling them out in the Force as we spoke, and received a confirmation that my instincts were correct.

They told me they would find her, that they have lots of contacts among the kinder people in the Coruscanti undercity. Someone would be able to direct them to her.

I thanked them, bowed, and walked away. I did not look back. I felt their sadness as I went. If I had turned around to see it, I don’t think I would have been able to go.

I hope they can forgive me someday.

<End of Entry>  


<Entry 12:><begin playback>

It's been a while since my last journal recording. I’ve been focusing on my work in the medical wing. Master Healer Rig Nema gave me a research project to help her with.

A few days ago, a Clone Trooper killed Master Tiplar while on a mission. It has been a great shock to the Temple, and especially to Master Tipli, who was something rare in the Temple: her twin sister. Very few Jedi even know their blood families, much less get to grow up with them.

*Sigh* Family... someone in my clan has tried to contact me. They sent me a message last week, text only, on the com frequency I gave them to give to Ahsoka. I hadn't gotten anything from that connection since Ahsoka's first, and only, message: a brief thank you for the help she had received from the Ryn, and assurance that she was going to be ok.

This new message is in Ryn. Which is a good way to keep someone at the Temple from being able to understand it if it's intercepted, but it also means I may not be able to read half of it.

I have been avoiding it. I do not want to develop any further attachments to them. Telling them I could not see them again was difficult enough. I can't allow myself to become that conflicted again. I don't know if I should even open it...

Deep breath, Sennah, refocus.

My project, yes.

The Kaminoans are not allowing the Jedi doctors access to the “defective” clone, as they've been calling him. It's so strange, we Jedi medics been allowed to put clone troops back together plenty of times before. There's been diseases, injuries, and all kinds of conditions we've treated clone troops for, why is this one different?

Master Nema gave me a project to investigate our records for any other reports of Clone Trooper aggression like this, so that we would have some data when we were allowed to assist the investigation. I did not find anything in the Temple archives, so I had sent a request to access Republic records.

As of an hour ago, however, it became a moot point. The military and the Kaminoans have taken it completely out of Jedi hands, the Supreme Chancellor let them completely block us out. So, my project is on hold indefinitely.

I guess I will find something else to work on.

<End of Entry>

  
  
<Entry 13:><begin playback>  
  
Master Yoda has been unwell. Master Nema said he has been hearing voices, well, one voice specifically: Master Qui-Gon’s. She says she and the Council are convinced that he's suffering from some sort of mental disorder, brought on by stress. They say he can't possibly be hearing the voice of someone who has passed into the Force.  
  
Master Nema is thinking of trying something drastic tomorrow, trying to help Master Yoda sort out what may be some sort of psychic trauma. Master Nema's procedure will put him in a sensory deprivation tank, and then reduce his oxygen intake to barely minimum, to force him into a deep meditation.  
  
I voiced my concerns as she described the process to me, but she assured me that it was a technique she had researched carefully. I trust Master Nema to know what's best, she has been treating patients at the Temple far longer than I have. I guess I will obey my superior's instructions, as I have been taught.  
  
But, I keep thinking back to my experience while in deep meditation weeks ago. Should I tell Master Yoda what I felt? What I heard? Qui-Gon’s voice, if that's what it truly was, told me to not tell anyone, to be patient, to wait. Perhaps this is what he was wanting me to wait for? For Master Yoda to hear him too? Or am I possibly suffering from the same affliction as Master Yoda?  
  
No, it's not some madness, it was too real. I heard his song... Didn't I?  
  
I'm certainly not going to be able to talk to Master Yoda tonight, the Council has him under close supervision.  
  
I have infirmary duty again tomorrow, maybe I might have a chance to talk to Master Yoda after the procedure?  
  
Dare I talk to him? He will be able to feel the conflict in me, I know it.  
  
I opened the message...  
  
It was from the quetarra player, my childhood friend, Danyal. As I thought, I was not able to understand most of it. The parts I was able to translate...  
  
He wants to see me again, I am sure of that part. He apologizes. Much of it was difficult to decipher, I think it is perhaps metaphorical? A poem, maybe? Or a song?  
  
_Stars,_ I don't want to know, but yet I do. When I reach out to him... I feel his song is almost as conflicted as mine, but often submerged in a darkness. Not the darkness of evil, just, sadness. Like perpetual clouds that block out the warmth of sunlight.  
  
I want to help him, to heal him, but it is not something I could heal without imposing my will onto his mind.  
  
It's just part of my nature, wanting to fix things, to heal people. But mental wounds are difficult, and are best healed most permanently by the one suffering from them, as Master Nema is doing for Master Yoda.  
  
A talented healer (especially one like me, skilled in reading thoughts and emotions) could 'fix' a mentally ill person by changing their thoughts. But that slips into mind control, and manipulation, and that is the Dark Side.  
  
Someone like me could begin with good intentions, but where do you stop? How much of a person's personality IS their moods and thoughts? Irreparable harm could be done to their mind.  
  
Over time, with patience and cooperation, I probably could help him out of that darkness, but too much else could develop along the way...  
  
I can't help him. Not and still remain a Jedi Knight.  
  
<End of Entry>

 

<Entry 14:><begin playback>  
The procedure… did not go as planned. I had a very bad feeling about it all morning. But I kept quiet and trusted in Master Nema's experience.  
  
As I helped prep Master Yoda for the procedure, I felt something, an odd intensity in the room, it was coming through the Living Force.  
  
As Master Nema explained the procedure to the Masters and lowered Master Yoda into the tank, I retreated to a corner of the infirmary. I closed my eyes and tried to reach out as I had when I felt Master Qui-Gon’s presence weeks ago. I have tried to reach out multiple times since that first experience, but have never felt Master Qui-Gon again.  
  
This time, however, I heard his song almost immediately. Master Qui-Gon was there, in the infirmary. He was trying desperately to get Master Yoda to hear him. He was reaching out to Obi-Wan, Anakin, Plo-Koon, Nema, everyone in the room, trying to impress upon them that this was not the way.  
  
_Master Qui-Gon?_ I called out mentally to his presence. _Is that really you?_  
  
_Ah, Little One_ , I felt his smile through his worry. _You were always so perceptive of presences in the Living Force. Yes, it is me, the part of me that remains, at least._  
  
_What can I do to help you?_ I asked. _To help Master Yoda?_  
  
He told me to focus on his presence, to do what I could to “amplify his resonance”. So I pictured his song, the unique notes in the Force that are “Master Qui-Gon Jinn”, and -- I don't know how to explain it exactly -- sang along? Adding my “voice” to his, reinforcing and strengthening his presence.  
  
I reached deeper, farther out into the Force, reaching towards where I felt Qui-Gon's presence emanating. He was tethered in the Cosmic Force, where we are taught that our unique energy goes after our mortal lives end, adding to the great symphony beyond time and space. But Qui-Gon was sustaining his unique individuality by connecting just as strongly to the Living Force, the energy created by, and connecting, all living things. It was completely not how the Jedi taught the Force worked, but it... makes sense. I felt Qui-Gon's smile as he watched me piece it together. _Very good, Little One_ he said, _I will help you explore this further another time. Right now, we have to stop this._  
  
I pulled upon the Living Force to connect with the Jedi in the room, and reached into the beyond to connect with Master Qui-Gon. Images began to flash through my mind from the Cosmic Force, branching futures stretching out before me. I tried to ignore them, they were distracting, irrelevant at the moment. I caught glimpses of futures nonetheless. One future of darkness and death, where my presence was scattered into the Force and lost. A second future of sadness and fear, on the run from evil before eventually succumbing to it. A third future of danger and difficulty, yet purpose and love; with the songs of friends and family surrounding me, Danyal, and… our children.  
  
I heard Obi-Wan's voice, it snapped me out of the visions: “His vital signs are dropping too low. I want him out if there now!” Master Nema agreed and stopped the procedure, pulling Master Yoda back from the edge of death.  
  
As I looked around, I realized that everything I had just experienced took place in mere seconds of actual time. I have experienced moments like that before, most Jedi have, when the Force enhances your senses so much that it seems that time slows. But never quite to that extreme.  
  
*Silence for a few moments.*  
  
Well, Master Nema is letting Master Yoda rest as she and the Council decide what to do next.  
  
I have been left to observe Master Yoda as she and the Council confer. I am to call for her if there are any immediate problems. This may be my only chance to speak with him alone…  
<End of Entry>

 

<Security Recording - Source: Medical Recovery Room 1>  
<Inserted into official inquiry record in chronological position - Master Plo-Koon>

An auburn-haired Ryn Jedi enters the Recovery Room, she returns a hand-held recording device to a belt pouch as she approaches the medical table where Master Yoda rests.

“How are you feeling, Master?” The Jedi medic asks.

“Feel better, I do.” Master Yoda looks up at Knight Sennah. “Hmm. Felt you, I did. Helping Master Qui-Gon, you were. Hear him, do you?”

“I… Yes Master, I have.” Sennah replies, looking away, not meeting the Master's gaze.

“And told someone you did not?” Yoda squints at the Knight. “Helped my case with Master Nema and the rest of the Council it may have.”

Knight Sennah flinches slightly, she looks chagrined. “He... told me not to, Master.”

Master Yoda closes his eyes and chuckles quietly. “Forgive you, I do. A mysterious and wise man, our Master Qui-Gon was. No, IS.”

Master Yoda looks up at Knight Sennah again. “Hmm, conflicted you are, young healer. What troubles you?”

“I saw a vision, Master.” The medic responds, but seems reluctant to continue.

“Hmm, had visions before, you have. Remember this, I do." Master Yoda looks at the Ryn intently. "What saw you?”

“Possible futures, I think, but I do not know what decisions I will make that may lead to which.”

“Difficult to read, the future is. Let me see your vision, will you?” Master Yoda reaches out a small green hand. After a moment's hesitation, Knight Sennah clasps her long-fingered red-brown hand around the Jedi Master's.

“Clear your mind," Yoda instructs. "Think on the vision.”

Knight Sennah closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and lets it out. Master Yoda does the same.

After a few minutes of silence, Master Yoda nods and speaks.

“Hmm. Yes. See the futures you saw, I do. A choice you have, young Jedi. At a crossroads you are, make this decision very soon, you must.”

“But how can I possibly choose _any_ of those futures?” Knight Sennah asks, her voice is strained. “Death, darkness, or betraying everything I am and have vowed to be? And which decisions will lead to which of them?”

“Hah! Know you already the decision that leads to the third path.” Master Yoda gives her a brief, knowing smile that quickly fades. “Dark times we are in, young Jedi. How to best serve the Will of the Force, we must all decide. Even if betraying what we _think_ is true, it requires. Know everything, the Jedi do not. Admit that I do, difficult though it may be. The lesson Master Qui-Gon has for me to learn, I think that is.”

“What do I _do_ , Master?” Knight Sennah asks quietly.

“Wise words will I use, young Sennah. Old they are, and forgotten them the Jedi often have,” Master Yoda looks Knight Sennah in the eye and speaks, carefully and deliberately: “‘What does your heart tell you?’”

Knight Sennah still looks troubled.

“What decision you make, accept it I will.” Master Yoda assures her.

“Even the one that leads to the third path?” Knight Sennah murmurs.

“Give you leave to make even that choice, I do.” Master Yoda answers, giving the healer's hand a squeeze.

Knight Sennah stands in thoughtful silence for a moment, then nods.

“Now,” Master Yoda says, letting go of the Ryn's hand and sitting up. “Before your decision you carry out, help I need from you. Leave the Temple for a time I must. Need you to fetch Knight Skywalker, I do.”

“Master?” Knight Sennah asks questioningly.

“A bit of a stir I need him to help me cause. A good time to act upon your decision it will be.”

Knight Sennah bows her head, she whispers something too quietly for the security cameras to pick up. She reaches to her side, her hand comes back up holding her lightsaber. Her hand trembles slightly as she slowly opens her fingers, offering the weapon to the Jedi Grand Master on her open palm. Master Yoda raises a hand as if to accept the surrendered saber, but pauses just above it. The lightsaber levitates, twisting in the air as it disassembles, coming apart to reveal the deep forest-green kyber crystal nestled at its heart.

“Important to you, this crystal was, if remember correctly I do.” Master Yoda murmurs as he and Knight Sennah share a small smile, as if they recall a fond shared experience. The crystal descends into Sennah's open hand. She closes her fist around it tightly and brings it to her chest. A tear trickles from her eye, tracing a dark line down her furred cheek.

“Emotion...?” Master Yoda asks.

The Ryn medic takes a deep breath. She nods.

“...Yet Peace.” She replies, both answering his question and finishing the first line of the simplified Jedi Code.

“A good, long, happy life have you, young Jedi.” The elderly Master says in farewell. “May the Force be with you, and a light be to your people in the dark times ahead.”

Sennah bows to Master Yoda, he bows his head in return. She gives a brief glance to the discarded pieces of her lightsaber. Master Yoda is levitating them into hiding in a seldom-used drawer. The Ryn turns and all but runs from the room.

A moment later, a pair of armored and masked Jedi Temple Guardians enter and take their positions by the doorway, Master Healer Nema enters soon after.

<End of Recording>

 

Epilogue:

 

“Finished your investigation, you have, Master Plo Koon?”

The Kel-Dor Jedi looked up from the terminal where he had been reviewing Temple security vids and compiling his report.

“Ah, Master Yoda, you have returned from wherever it was you disappeared to so suddenly.” Plo Koon was silent for a moment. The only sound was his breathing through the mask his species had to wear in oxygen-rich environments. He glanced at his terminal screen and then back at the diminutive Jedi Grand Master standing in the doorway of his office. “You encouraged a wavering Knight to leave the Order?”

“Needed elsewhere, her talents will be. Though clouded the Force is becoming, clear this was to me.” And it had been reinforced by the visions he'd been recently shown on the planet Degobah.

“So many promising youth lost,” Master Plo Koon remarked sadly, pondering the multiple young Jedi who had left the Temple, by one means or another, since the Clone Wars began: Bardan Jusik, Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee, now this gifted young healer.

“Are they failing us, or are we failing them, Grand Master?” Plo Koon asked. His features, as usual, were unreadable behind his mask, but the emotion in his voice was clear.

“The latter, I fear, Master Plo Koon.” Yoda replied somberly. “Failed many, we have. Perhaps the Force itself, even.”


End file.
